


Breaching Walls

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9064204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: When you're trapped inside a collapsed Tevinter ruin, there's plenty of time to talk.





	

Anaan Adaar was sure that some of the soldiers were grumbling about the duty they had been given. Carting away the bodies of their fallen enemies was unlikely to have been something that any of them had joined the Inquisition to do. But it had to be done. The Temple of Dumat could actually be secured, unlike many of the other sites where the Inquisition had clashed with Corypheus’s forces red templars, which meant that they could collect the bodies and take them for study. Dagna’s squees of excitement to be able to first hand study the effects of red lyrium on a body, as well as relatively fresh samples from the various red templar abominations were practically audible all the way here. 

And there was the matter of Maddox, the Tranquil. 

They had sent his enchantment tools with a runner back to Skyhold. But they were still waiting for a chance to properly deal with his remains. Cullen had attempted to discover if Maddox had family, parents, siblings, someone who would want to be notified of the man’s death. He’d even attempted to get in touch with the man who Maddox had used Samson to communicate with, but he’d either died in the chaos of Kirkwall (the Qunari invasion, the Chantry explosion and aftermath, or even just running afoul of one of the many street gangs in the city – Kirkwall sadly didn’t lack for lethal amounts of chaos) or he had fled the city and never looked back. 

That meant that he would likely receive a pauper’s funeral, meaning a swift cremation and dispersal of his ashes, without even a ceremony to note his passing. 

Cullen had opted instead to have him cremated here, and he would scatter the man’s ashes when they returned to Skyhold. It might not have been Maddox’s wish for himself, but it was the most respect that he could be shown now. 

Anaan didn’t like the Temple. It was an old Tevinter temple, to one of the Old Gods. Even if he didn’t think that the disdain of all things Tevinter was hardwired into Qunari after Ages of conflict between the two nations, even if the Qunari in question had no interest in the Qun, he wouldn’t like it. There was a taint within it. This was a place of evil. 

He made his way from the outside back into what had been Samson’s room, where Cullen was examining what the leader of the red templars had left behind. “Cullen?” Anaan called as he entered the room.

The commander looked up from the desk. “Inquisitor. I was just about finished here.”

“It’s fine, Cullen. I’m not trying to rush you.” Anaan moved towards him, looking at the materials on the desk. “Anything there we can use?”

“It appears Samson was attempting to track down any templar he could who had been expelled from the Order, even moving towards those who had retired. It appears that he intended to make volunteers of them, offer them the ability to ‘serve’ once more. But he had contingencies prepared for if they refused him.”

A class act, that Samson. Anaan thought it was a greater act of self-delusion than Corypheus’s dreams of godhood. At least based on what he’d heard from the magister at Haven, it sounded like Corypheus had, upon being greeted with an empty throne, came to believe there was no god or gods in Thedas, and that he needed there to be one, which was leading to him trying to become the world’s god. Samson... Samson was turning men into unthinking beasts in service of Corypheus’s goal, and, based on the writings they’d found, actually had managed to make himself believe he was allowing them to still be able to serve. Even if some part of them remained people after all of the red lyrium Samson had shoveled down their throat, what exactly were they serving in all of this? A would-be god? One who had nothing but disdain for the people under his command now, let alone how he’d treat them after his ‘ascension’? 

“Our forces are getting ready to pull out,” Anaan said. “We seem to have gotten everything that we can from here.”

Heaving a sigh, Cullen nodded. “Agreed. The sooner we put this place behind us, the better.”

As if tempted by his words, there was an abrupt rumble. Anaan stumbled forward, an act that ended up sparing him from injury as the wall to Samson’s room collapsed. 

Coughing, Anaan pulled himself up. Cullen was at his side as well, helping to steady him. “Are you all right, Inquisitor?” he asked as Anaan got back on his feet.

“I think so,” Anaan said. He turned and looked at the damage. The wall behind them had completely caved in. There was no way that they could climb it – even if there were space enough for them to get through, nothing about the wall of collapsed rock looked secure, meaning they’d likely slip and fall back down if they tried. And, Anaan figured, using his magic to try and break through the wall would just bring more of the building down around their ears. “It looks like we’re stuck here. At least for now.”

Cullen sighed. “I suppose we are. This place is a shambles, the support beams are...”

“Too old to trust, I can see that. We’d probably be better off moving back, stay away from the collapse,” Anaan said.

“Inquisitor! Commander!” The shout came in Cassandra’s distinct voice, though it was difficult to make out entirely. “Are you all right?” Her voice was muffled through the collapsed rock, but at least it was audible.

“We’re fine, Cassandra! Just stuck over here,” Anaan called back.

“We are already preparing to dig you out!” she shouted. “But it may take some time!”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Anaan pointed out. He looked to Cullen. “Still, just in case of further collapse, we’re probably better off moving away from the place where the ceiling has already collapsed.”

Cullen nodded. “Agreed.” They both made their way to the back of the room, where Samson had apparently made his bed chamber. “Though if this place falls apart any further, this likely won’t be enough protection either.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to worry about that.” If it did come to that point, they’d probably be dead already anyway. 

Now the question was simply how they were going to pass the time while they waited for the others to get them out of here.

Anaan glanced to Cullen. Of course he would be trapped in a confined space with Cullen. Because his misfortune had long since begun to be the greatest amusement to any and all higher powers there were in Thedas, as evidenced by the Mark on his hand. So why wouldn’t he be trapped in a room indefinitely with the man he’d been attracted to for the last several months? That was just his kind of luck. 

“How long do you think they’ll take?” he asked. 

“It should be at least a few hours. At the outside, perhaps a day, if they’re being very careful, though I doubt it will take that long.”

Anaan sighed. “Shame we don’t have a chess board. You could let me win another few rounds.”

“Let you?” Cullen asked, chuckling. 

“You think I didn’t realize it? I take it that was your way of rewarding me for playing fair?”

“How’d you know?”

“Dorian keeps complaining about how you’re beating him. Given his family being Tevinter nobility, I figured he’d had to cultivate the skill out there. If you beat him so soundly, I’d have to have had the mother of all beginner’s luck, or you threw the game.”

Cullen chuckled. “Dorian still thinks he can cheat without me noticing. That or he wants to trip me up at some point.”

The conversation died off at that point, back into awkward silence. Anaan busied himself with counting the cracks in the walls, a part of his mind theorizing if he should be trying to find a way to use any of them to escape. Anything that could busy his mind from the fact that Cullen was-

-was now sitting next to him. While he’d been busy trying to distract himself, Cullen had sat down on the bed beside him. The proximity was definitely unexpected. 

Anaan sighed. If things were going to be awkward, maybe he should just get it all aired out now. It wasn’t as if there was going to be any difference in things if he didn’t acknowledge it. “Cullen?” Cullen looked to him, and Anaan almost lost his nerve, but, somehow, he managed to keep it together and ask. “I suppose you may not remember, back at Haven... You said that you didn’t feel you and I could be more than friends.”

“I... remember, yes,” Cullen said. He stiffened at the question, looking uncomfortable. Anaan wouldn’t exactly call that encouraging. Still, he had to get through this or he’d never be able to get it off his chest.

So, Anaan took a breath. “I was wondering if there was any particular reason for that. Because... I’ve had feelings for you since Haven. And I’ve respected that you said there could be nothing further between us, but... I think there might have been a reason you turned me down other than a lack of attraction.” It wasn’t difficult to figure – he hadn’t known about Cullen’s addiction at the time he’d expressed an interest in the other man. He’d figured that Cullen considered it too much of a burden to subject someone to, especially if they were unaware of it when they expressed that interest in him.

Cullen began to fidget, uncertain. “I... It’s not that simple. I... Inquisitor, you know about my struggles with the lyrium-”

“Of course I do, and that doesn’t concern me.” He’d already seen Cullen at his lowest point, the day he’d nearly struck him – unintentionally - with the container of lyrium in his office. He could handle Cullen at his worst. 

“That should have told you everything you’d need to know, then. I-I’m in no condition to love anyone.” He said it almost pathetically, as if it was the best he could come up with.

Anaan couldn’t stop from scoffing at that. “I disagree with you there, Cullen. I’ve seen you at your worst, remember? You told me about what happened at the Circle. You told me how you reacted to it all... And I told you outright, I still thought you were a good man. I still believe that.”

Cullen was silent, not looking at him. The silence seemed to weigh more than the rubble blocking their exit. 

There was, Anaan thought, reason based on his reaction to assume that there was a mutual attraction. He hadn’t denied Anaan’s suggestion that Cullen’s initial turn down of his advances hadn’t been because he wasn’t attracted. 

“It’s not just the lyrium.” Cullen speaking was unexpected – even though the silence had been brief, it had been heavy enough that Anaan hadn’t expected him to be the one who broke it.

“What is it, then?”

“I... I was a templar. I was tasked with killing mages who didn’t make it through their Harrowing. I... I hated mages – ALL mages – Uldred’s actions, even though I knew that not all of them sided with him. I supported Meredith for... for far too long, believing her to be right. There’s no reason that I should be forgiven for that.”

“Is that all?”

“It’s not enough?”

“I won’t lie, it’s not the best picture. But... You DID eventually take a stand against Meredith. You were traumatized after what happened at the Circle, and you should have been given a chance to recover, not shoved into the deep end. But you still managed to recognize that you were making a mistake by listening to her, by listening to your trauma and not your head. When things were at their worst, you made the right choice.”

Still Cullen looked unconvinced. He moved away from Anaan, though they had little room at the moment to allow him the option of leaving one another to their thoughts. There just wasn’t enough room for anything but acknowledging what was being said.

“Why do you think all of that, everything in your past, makes you unworthy of being loved by someone, Cullen?”

That question seemed to stop him. He hesitated, not saying anything, and studiously avoiding looking at Anaan. 

Anaan rose and reached out to Cullen, pleased when he didn’t try to twist away from his touch. “Cullen... That’s what it is, isn’t it? You don’t think you’re worthy of being loved.”

“Wouldn’t you? After... after everything I’ve done, that I’ve been party to... Why would someone choose to subject themselves to... someone like me?” Cullen spoke the words like they were an admission of defeat, of having lost a fight. He wouldn’t even meet Anaan’s gaze.

“I think you’re better than that. You’ve overcome that... Cullen, I trust your judgment, I have you in one of the most important positions in the Inquisition. Doesn’t that... make any kind of difference to you? You’re someone I trust with my life. I’m a mage, and I trust you to protect me. You’re someone who I would, were I not the Inquisition, want to have in my life. I’m not saying this to hear myself say it, I’m telling you this because I genuinely believe it.”

As he spoke, Anaan moved towards Cullen, closing the distance between them. Cullen, he could feel, was mirroring his movement, moving towards him. Anaan almost felt like Cullen was a skittish cat he was gently coaxing to let him pet it. The mental image was amusing, though he figured sharing it would probably shatter the moment.

When their lips brushed, Cullen didn’t pull away. It encouraged Anaan to try again with another, this time more of a peck. Cullen was still there. So Anaan took the plunge and gave Cullen a full, very real, very undeniable kiss, and hoped he could pour all that he felt towards the former templar in that act. 

How long they stood there, pressed together, Anaan couldn’t say. Eventually, though, the need for air forces them to pull apart. He realized, however, that while they’d been kissing, Cullen had wrapped his arms around him, and had yet to let go.

It was definitely a positive sign.

“Cullen...” he said softly. He could hear the desire in his voice, and he knew that Cullen heard it too. 

There was a moment of hesitation on Cullen’s part, before he gave a small shake of his head. “To flames with it...” And he came in for a deeper kiss, pushing Anaan back towards the back of the room. 

Although they’d fallen back to the bed, there was no way Anaan intended to go any further than they were – if nothing else, he had no intention of sleeping with Cullen on Samson’s bed. It was probably one of the most unclean places he could think of. Still, they spent a good long while kissing. 

When they finally separated for air, Anaan couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s some change of heart.”

“You’re very persistent,” Cullen said, chuckling himself. “Oh, Maker...”

“Please tell me that wasn’t your first kiss,” Anaan said.

“No, though... None have quite been that... intense.”

“I aim to please.” Anaan rested a hand on Cullen’s arm, gently rubbing his bicep through his clothes. He was certainly picturing getting Cullen out of them, but that was getting ahead of himself. “So... I’m guessing this means that you’re willing to give a relationship a chance?”

“I do seem to have run out of excuses. I... can’t argue with...” Cullen brought a hand to Anaan’s face, gently thumbing his cheekbone. “...with what is staring me in the face. Quite literally.”

“You deserve love and happiness, Cullen. You shouldn’t doubt that.”

Cullen’s gaze dipped down briefly. Before Anaan could stop him from another bout of self-recriminations about his worthiness to be loved, he returned Anaan’s gaze. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop on command, but... You are certainly convincing when you set your mind to the task.”

“I don’t think I’d be a very good Inquisitor if I weren’t persistent. The world would surely fall apart without me.” Anaan made the joke, but he realized that it was all too true. He wasn’t offered the opportunity to move beyond that role and position. He’d kept that mostly to himself since everything had begun.

He thought that he’d managed to keep his feelings under tight control, but there was a shift in Cullen’s expression. “I... Is that all you feel you are? The Inquisitor?”

“If you’re going to tell me I’m more than my title, then I’d also suggest that you consult a mirror,” Anaan pointed out.

However, he seemed to have struck a chord with the commander, who gave him a very stern look. “I am aware of the pressure that I am under as the Commander of the Inquisition’s army. And it’s because of that knowledge that I ask how you’re handling things in your position.” He paused for a moment. “If you want me to open up to you, then I insist that you return that favor to me.”

Abashed, Anaan found himself nodding in understanding. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s... You know, I think you’re one of the first of anyone who’s asked that question. Everyone else is so busy seeing the ‘Herald of Andraste,’ or ‘the Inquisitor,’ and forgetting that Anaan Adaar actually exists.” The reminder that he had an identity beyond those roles thrust upon him was unexpected. It also made Anaan more certain that he’d been drawn to Cullen for a reason, for something more than something quick and dirty. That there would easily be something solid and lasting with him.

He wasn’t going to call it ‘love,’ not yet. But if it wasn’t, it was certainly turning in that direction.

Cullen understood what he was saying, giving a nod. “I know what that means. I... You have seen me through some of my most difficult times, Adaar. I would be more than willing to return the favor, allow you to speak to me and... speak without rank, as it were.”

The statement was something that Anaan was grateful on its own, but he was mostly focused on the fact that Cullen had used his name. Alright, not his given name, but it was a reminder that he was more than the Herald or the Inquisitor. 

And he certainly liked the sound of his name coming out of Cullen’s lips. 

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Cullen,” Anaan said, and he leaned in for another kiss. 

***

It was several hours later when the Inquisition forces managed to break through the collapsed walls and reach them. Neither of them had a real complaint of getting out of the room Samson had used as his home, but they both wouldn’t have minded a little more time together. 

But there was still the promise of returning to Skyhold. The Inquisitor’s quarters were certainly more comfortable.

**Author's Note:**

> Curse you BioWare for denying this.


End file.
